Scuttle Scuttle [F'ur]

[rii]

Ink bottle open, quill pen set lightly between fingers, F'lix leaned over the small section of table he had cleared of various thingamajigs and whachamacallits. In front of him laid two sheets of paper, each with their own sets of small, finely drawn sketches. The way F'lix tapped the end of the writing utensil against his chin hinted at his internal debate. Or, with the way he began to pushed around the ink cork with the dry tip, suggested boredom.

Wings blotted out the light streaming in through the open doorway (the cooler weather was welcomed change). It signaled the landing of a dragon on the ledge and F'lix did not have to wonder about the 'who' part. Hastily F'lix fumbled to re-cork the ink bottle. Ink splashed out as it was jostled but F'lix only set the quill pen aside to start folding up both pieces of paper. Smaller and smaller in size until he could slip the parchments into his back pocket as he stepped out onto the ledge.

The blurerider glanced at the ink staining two of his fingers as he approached – making no effort to conceal or pronouce his arrival. F'lix's greeting came in the form of half-heartedly jumping on F'ur's back (more of heavily leaning on him while on tip toes). His arm slung around his weyrmate's shoulders and if some of the fresh ink smudged along F'ur's cheek in poorly placed whiskers. Well. F'lix just wouldn't bring attention to that little belated revenge mishap.

His other hand came up, a single finger pressing lightly against lips – all for Inocenth's viewing only – before draping the arm over F"ur's shoulder and letting it hang over his chest. His chin resided on the opposite shoulder. "How do you feel about going to the beach for the evening?"

[Requiem]

I like it. Riders need to remember that they're not the ones with the wings...taking us dragons for granted. How better to do that than dump you all over cliffs? F'ur snorted, tightening his thighs as he settled against the blue's neck and switched the clips out to the modified fighting straps that had saved his life more than once. Just in time for Inocenth to pull into a steep dive, twisting and turning in stomach-dropping acrobatics over the Weyr. F'ur grinned through gritted teeth, letting out a whoop as the male buzzed the ground and swirled upward in a flurry of wingbeats. Showoff. Wounding me. I'm just satisfying that need for an adrenaline rush you seem to have, Inocenth pouted unconvincingly. He coiled into a neat circle that even some greens wouldn't have been able to pull off in so limited a space, dropping lightly the few feet to the weyrledge with a dramatic sweep of his wings. They snapped tight to his body, and F'ur was down even before the blue could crouch to aid the descent.

Saber isn't here? Probably with Onyth, my vicious little menace. He couldn't help the small, bemused smile at the bare hintings of disappointment in Inocenth's mindvoice. It likely had more to do with the game he liked to play with F'ur and Saboth than any real fondness for the other blue - though, oddly enough, Inocenth actually did seem to be enjoying Saboth's company, at least enough to include him in his Weyr watching - but it was still better than the begrudging tolerance Inocenth had initially held for the other male. One thing could be said about Ino: he accepted what wasn't going to change better than most.

Hearing the kitten's approach, F'ur continued loosening the riding straps on his mindmate of two decades. It had passed through his mind to give F'lix a more fitting greeting, but getting the straps off Ino would ultimately serve his purposes better.

Rocking forward, his stance widened as he took his weyrmate's weight easily, F'ur yielding to the touch on his cheek and turning his face toward the other bluerider's. His arm came up to tangle his fingers as much in F'lix's short hair as he could manage after removing the glove. Fortunately for the kitten, he just barely missed that little gesture the younger man had given his dragon. Inocenth's amusement didn't phase F'ur; the blue was almost always amused - and partly exasperated - by His when he was with the 'man leech.' Not to be confused with the other leech, who was currently asleep in his wall chink after throwing fits about cliff diving. Apparently freaking out was tiring.

The older man nipped lightly at his lover's lips. "Mmm. We like the beach. Saboth coming?" He should, Inocenth commented to them both, also poking at the absent Saboth's mind. Then we can both force you to stop ignoring our existence and get that oiling you promised, FailMine. F'ur wrinkled his nose at Inocenth. The blue continued to F'lix privately, And what are you going to give me to keep this abominable secret of yours, Saber's cat man? Think carefully...if I don't like the suggestion, he crooned. F'ur lifted a brow at Inocenth. "Okay now I know you're up to something. Being nice." He swatted the male's neck as Inocenth arched it in what could only be considered a play for innocence.

[rii]

F'lix smiled – at many things. The first being the successful inking of F'ur's cheek, the last being F'ur's motion to take off the glove before touching. Each little act from his weyrmate increasing the dancing amusement in those golden eyes. Not quite laughing, but definitely happy with the moment. He leaned more fully on his weyrmate, nearly lifting his toes off the stone. With parting lips the Bendenite drew closer to F'ur's lips as if to spur on a set of ideas that didn't involve going out to the beach. Instead, he smiled before making full contact. Golden eyes slitted in an easily recognized expression of mischief. "He is."

Inocenth's voice in his head wasn't unusual, per say, F'lix had been growing accustom to the dark tone that Saboth liked called Snarly. As such, the younger rider did well not to show any outwardly reaction to the voice. F'lix's playful expression waned to be replaced with raising brows that leaned toward inquiring about F'ur's suspicion. Nothing out of place here, oh no – F'lix hopped away, turning to wander back inside the weyr to find his boots.

He says, Saboth voiced to Inocenth while lighting on the weyrledge. His wings remained spread wide a moment before he calmly tucked them to his sides. Twisting his neck, Saboth peered in at the group before shifting his gaze back on the canyon. The moment has already been won. A few moments of F'ur not knowing the deed had been the modest goal. But in the sake of preserving future secrets.. Most dragons are appeased by a scratch – and yours fills the position of performing antics in the weyr for you to spectate. So, what do you have in mind?

Pack over a shoulder, F'lix leaned against the doorway with one knee raised to lace up his boot. "I was out there this morning for the squad run. Saw quite a few crabs out and I figure they'll come out again in the evening. Not sure how you feel about it.. " He hopped forward, switching legs and simply balancing there to tie the second boot. All the while he craned his neck up to try and keep visual on F'ur. "But crab sounds kinda good – to eat."

[Requiem]

Hm. You know when Mine starts asking you questions about what Saboth knows? I'm playing a little game with them. Seeing how long it takes Mine to...put the whole picture together, so to speak. Perhaps you can make that more challenging, he suggested silkily to F'lix - including Saboth in the exchange.

Inocenth hadn't moved to make way for Saboth, though that was hardly surprising; the blue was small. He was smaller than the average green, in fact, if only by a little. There was more than enough room for the other male. F'ur wasn't sure if there was anything going on with his dragon or not, because Inocenth had the habit of deliberately acting suspicious for his own amusement when it suited him. For that matter, the kitten would do that on occasion, too. Right now he seemed to - seemed to - be out of the loop in terms of whatever it was the small blue was up to. Probably something to do with oiling. If F'ur had to fight Inocenth on that the hide was simply getting neglected. End of story.

"Crabs?" A slow smile came to F'ur's face, the man quickly darting into the weyr, moving through his maze of odds and ends to pluck up a couple of spears lying against the wall, replacing the staff strapped to his back with them. Even before F'lix finished putting on his boots, F'ur's had come off, and he was soon back out with the oils needed for two adult dragons. "If we wait for the low tide that's when it should be easiest to find them. Can take care of the whiners-" a nod to the two blues "-while we wait for that. Come on, hurry up." He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet for a moment before securing the items to Inocenth's straps.

A glance was shot sidelong at the kitten. "What ye got in the pack?"

[rii]

F'lix glanced in Inocenth's direction. The faint tug on his smile, the quick lift and fall of brows spoke enough of his response to the dark blue's words. Turning down a game rarely happened unless the younger rider simply was not in the mood to play. Today was not such a day. Besides, competitiveness (read: stubbornness) ran strong in both blueriders. Saboth was the only one that didn't seem to care either way, thusly stated by his mildly amused response. Limiting the guesses Yours is allowed should do well enough. What do you think?

The familar sound of bare soles padding over the stone drew an amused smile from F'lix. Boot tied securely, the younger righted himself with a curious glance at the spears. To be honest, he wasn't good with one by any stretch of imagination. Fishing had been the only thing he tried to use one for and that typically ended with him holding a grudge toward the polearm. F'lix wrinkled his nose, "Grand idea of a relaxing evening at the beach spoiled." He softly tsked with a light shake of his head. "Meddlesom dragons.."

Hurry up – tch. F'lix was certain that he been the one jumping his weyrmate to leave before the man could even step inside the weyr. That had more to due about not wanting to be questioned about what he was drawing. Instead, as F'lix moved across the stone for Saboth, he paused just behind F'ur at the other probing question. A sly smile sprang to his features, golden eyes half-lidding in that ever playful manner. "A ball of string."

Hinting at the whiskers – perhaps. Or just jesting at the nickname that had long ago replaced F'lix's actual name. Either way, the smile remained as F'lix rocked on to the balls of his feet before smoothly settling back on heels. "Some cream." His tongue darted in and out before he slide the pack off his shoulder. From inside he retrieved a stone carved cup and fitted plate stolen from the kitchens not too long ago. He turned the cup, disconnecting it from the flat bottom to reveal.. butter. Yes, the idea to go to the beach had not be so impromptu as it seemed at first.

Closing the container before F'ur could think to swipe a taste, F'lix slipped it back into the safety of his pack. There were other things, but the younger was hoping that F'ur's curiosity would be sated by the show of butter. Slinking away, F'lix moved to grab the straps hanging loose from Saboth's neck, mounting quickly.

[Requiem]

Mmmm. I believe that is more than acceptable, Inocenth agreed sibilantly, his eyes slitting for a moment before he returned his attention to the returning His. Wouldn't do to tip him off just yet, even though it would be obvious enough that the man leech had been brought in on it once the game got underway. Not tonight, though. Tonight he would entertain himself by watching the riders try to catch the side-steppers. As far as he knew, neither made a practice of doing so. This should be quite...amusing.

F'ur grinned slightly at F'lix's usual grumping. "Everyone exacts their price. Even dragons." Especially dragons. Inocenth was continuing his practice of including all three in his words, now. He hadn't with the man-leech, but once His and Saber were frequently included in his discussions, the small blue had adjusted so as not to leave the last member of their small band out. An odd thing, perhaps, for a dragon to do, but Inocenth knew loneliness. Even if it was only something as small as a conversation you were hearing only two out of three parts on, it was still...hn. Not being nice; Ino was never nice.

The older bluerider's eyes narrowed slightly. Oh, now he was even more curious, with the flippant answers. Stepping closer, he slid around half-behind his weyrmate as the pack hit the floor. Perhaps to maybe catch a glimpse of whatever lay hidden. His peering was interrupted, however, by the base of the cup unscrewing. They did that? His head cocked to one side, ideas flashing through his mind at this new discovery. Butter. He chuckled and nipped F'lix's ear. "The kitten has been scheming while I was gone, hasn't he?" Had been and was continuing to, apparently, given how quickly he was gone and mounted. Now even I am curious as to what is in that bag, Inocenth commented privately to His. He nudged his head against the man. Which we won't find out until we get to the beach. Stop dawdling.

In short order the bluepair had reemerged above the crashing waves, Inocenth circling lazily. "You do that and-" Too late. The small blue's wings had snapped closed, F'ur's mouth snapping shut in a quick inhale as he pressed himself tightly to the male's neck. Inocenth plunged into the water with all the precision of a knife, water sluicing past his flanks and the man's flattened body in a stream of bubbles. The serpentine body lashed, sending them skipping up above the surface in an arcing jump that ended in another, bigger splash. The male spread his wings as he bobbed, laughing coldly at the spluttering of His. "Damn it, Ino.." F'ur managed, shaking out his whole body as best as he was able still mounted on the dragon's back. "You are not a gull. Crazy."

Not waiting for any more of Inocenth's playful tricks, F'ur unclipped and slid into the water himself, striking out for the shore not too far away. He waded as soon as his feet could touch bottom, shivering as the cool air hit him. Cold he was used to. Cold and wet...not so much. Sharding blue. Inocenth bobbed in the surf contentedly, allowing the waves to roll over him and bear him gradually back toward the sands. F'ur got rid of his shirt with a snort. "Better hope those jars were sealed properly, scoundrel," he commented beneath his breath. If not, it was still worth it, the blue returned cheerfully.

[rii]

Saboth appeared low to the ground, just short of the spot F'lix had the squad meet in the mornings. His wings stirred up the small pale grains as he landed, both dragon and human head turning toward the ocean at the sound of a large splash. Saboth snorted, folding his wings as his rider slid off his neck. F'lix dropped the pack, smirking as his dragon moved off toward the higher end of the beach to gather up bits of dried-out drift wood. "You do the same thing to me and cliffs." Do not. "Grump." Kettle.

Hn.

F'lix whistled lowly to himself, wandering down to where the waves crawled up the shore. There he crouched to dip his ink stained hand into the cool water. As he scrubbed his palms together, F'lix lifted his eyes to his incoming sodden weyrmate. "I brought flint to start a fire. At least the plan was to do that later, buut.."

He let the word hang in the air as his eyes leisurely trail up F'ur's body. Already shirtless and thoroughly drenched. Let the action of sweeping eyes serve as an emphasis to his implied suggestion. No, had nothing to do with enjoying the view. Which, amusingly, included the streaks of black whiskers washing down from F'ur's cheek. Suppressing a grin, F'lix's brows rose instead. The reaction he didn't catch in time was the drop of his golden eyes to the guilty hand. Evidence of it's crime was mostly gone. F'lix plopped the last stained finger into his mouth to try and remove the remaining bit with the use of his tongue.

Mine says that is sabotage, Saboth commented privately to Inocenth while using his shredding tinder material off a log. His head lifted briefly, tail flicking upward as he looked in the other blue's direction. Washing away the ink like that.

F'lix chuckled, rocking up to his feet and moving over scoop up F'ur's discarded shirt. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he began to wring it out. "I didn't think to bring dry clothes. Can stake it up on a spear for now, I guess, since I don't see any crabs out just yet.."

[Requiem]

Oh? I call it a social experiment, the male returned with sibilant pleasure, ducking beneath the surface of the ocean only to resurface with a nice splash. Is your man leech skilled at sneaking things by Mine, or did he just get lucky? Hopefully Mine won't notice the ink running down his face...though if he did and Yours could still manage to pull it off again, then he's really good at it. A master of secret whisker application. Are you not curious, Saber? Nevermind that he really hadn't been planning anything nearly so clever as the words implied; Inocenth had merely wanted to get His twitching and wet. Mission...accomplished. Oh but he was proud of himself.

F'ur shook himself out like one of the mongrels he was loosely named after before the kitten could get quite close enough to be splattered. An odd taste that wasn't all salt water got between his lips, and he made a blech face. "Fire sounds good. Too cold for drenchings," he grumbled, definitely still put out at his blue. The dragon couldn't wait for warmer weather? There was ice on the ground most mornings these days, tch.

Now, the older man wouldn't have noticed anything at all had not F'lix been standing with a finger in his mouth. (At least until black started smearing down his chest.) It earned the younger bluerider a questioning look. The kitten didn't often go around sucking on his fingers randomly. Appreciative look or not...that wasn't a seductive move in this case. F'ur blinked. "Cut yourself or something?" His arms abandoned their crossed position over his chest in an attempt to keep himself warmer as F'lix wrung out the shirt, F'ur extracting one of the spears from the belts crossing his torso. It spun leisurely back behind the pad of his shoulder, however, anchoring there as he took F'lix's wrist. "Saltwater should help. Let me see?"

The older bluerider curled his toes in the sand, half pulling and half guiding F'lix further away from the water and the wind coming off the ocean. He glared at the dragon floating leisurely in on the breakers, then stuck his tongue out at Ino like a weyrbrat. The dragon lifted a wing mockingly in response. Shamelessly, the man stepped in close to his weyrmate without quite plastering himself to him, borrowing the kitten's warmth while waiting for the other bluerider to show him the offending cut.

[rii]

Saboth finished his clawing of the log, nudging the timbers closer before moving aside to curl up on the warm sand. It wasn't coincidence that had him choosing a spot that would block the to-be-fire from the majority of the light wind. If it is luck, who is to question it. If it were an important matter.. how the task was completed – luck or skill – doesn't truly matter. His tail tip drew lazily through the sand by his folded claws. I do believe mine wants to be caught in the end. Apparently it's not very fun if the inking is not discovered. My curiosity lies in how long it takes yours to catch him.

"A fire then," F'lix quietly concluded. The ink did leave an unpleasant, sour taste on his tongue and the younger rider was half tempted to stick his tongue out just to see if it was black. Brows raised at the question of a cut. F'lix being unable to utter the huh the vacant look expressed before F'lix found himself being spurred forward up the beach.

F'lix's hand reflexively found the side of F'ur's waist, only the fingers touching against the cool skin and damp material pants to.. ensure his weyrmate kept to the minimum distance to avoid getting soaked himself. Once sure that F'ur wasn't going to draw him into a hug, F'lix dropped his hands to further ring out the shirt. The fabric lifted, dabbing against the front of F'ur chest to clean up some of the gray-black stains that had made it further than the side of F'ur's face and neck.

His supposedly injured hand raised afterward, fingers wiggling expressively at F'ur's face. No blood, no cut – and F'lix wasn't sure if all the ink had been removed but hoped the movement kept his weyrmate from getting a proper look. In fact he didn't give the man much of a chance – pushing the damp shirt into the other man's chest and lightly nudging him in the direction of Saboth. F'lix turned, stride the few steps to hoist his pack back over his shoulder before following over the shallow pit used in the past for beach fires.

A bit of rummaging produced a piece of flint. F'lix ambled over to crouch by the pit as Saboth angled a wing out to snag F'ur. It was warmer, and would keep the wet man out of the wind, but Saboth didn't make mention of any of this. Instead reaching down to lick at the man's hair much like a runner would do to a salt lick. F'lix glanced over his shoulder at the sounds of movement. "Oh, I think he likes you." Or I'm just hungry. The blue openly commented. Tastes a bit like fish. "Mm, attractive.."

[Requiem]

While the man leech was up to his tricks - and an amusing dance of concealment it was - the small blue had finally reached the shoreline, plodding up out of the surf and flinging water everywhere in a wide radius as he shook himself vigorously, his wings fully extended. Soon, I think. He is giving Yours the look, Inocenth commented, amused. Not that he could see said look, but one should expect a dragon to know his rider well enough after twenty turns to have an idea of what expression accompanied what mood. The male folded his wings neatly along his sides, ambling lazily over toward the trio. I could always distract him by picking him up and dropping him in the water again, he offered slyly.

Just more and more curious. He’d released the wrist the moment F’lix’s arm lifted, and the waving fingers showed clearly that there was, in fact, no cut or similar wound on the hand. So why was he sucking at his fingers, then? (F’ur surely would have noticed such a queer habit by now if it existed. Anything involving something in F’lix’s mouth was unlikely to go unnoticed.) Then there was the shirt dabbing at his chest. Now, that could well be the kitten trying to dry him. Could be. The shirt was damp but not saturated anymore. Yet, still, it was just his chest, nowhere else, and he squinted down at the hand and the shirt. Most decidedly queer. Clutching to the fabric, the puzzled look was more than evident on his face as he allowed himself to be herded by the younger man, turning the shirt over in his hands idly.

Something odd on the shirt, caught in his peripheral vision, but before he could investigate further a wing had coiled around him and he half-stumbled toward Saboth, his expression shifting swiftly from startled to resigned (and mildly irritated) at a very large and slobbery tongue on his head. “That’s another form of liking. If you do happen to take a bite out of me, do me a favor and start with the head. I’m not into prolonging things.” He pushed lightly at Saboth’s head with the hand still clutching the shirt, blinking at the smear of black left over on the pale dragon’s jaw.

It took just a second or two to put it together, and his eyes shifted toward F’lix, narrowing into calculating little slits. “Did you get it all off, then?” he questioned of his weyrmate deceptively sweetly, nodding toward the hand the kitten had been sucking on.

[rii]

I don't think that will be necessary, Saboth rumbled at the pushing hand while bespeaking Inocenth. I think he's plenty annoyed with us at the moment. To make certain of this, Saboth licked along F'ur's extended arm before withdrawing. He laid his head on the sand, eye facing out in the direction of the ocean and tail curling around his frame to take up less space. The wing, however, remained around the wet bluerider. Which, as the seconds passed, became more apparent as a means of restraint other than keeping F'ur out of the wind.

Flix remained crouched by the pit, carefully moving tinder material to the center in the practiced actions of making the beginnings of a fire. A delicate constructions of thin wooden pieces, more nearby to feed when the embers grew into flames. The younger rider had just drawn a blade from boot – a dulled, chipped thing he kept at hand for the more menial tasks – but F'ur's tone had F'lix pausing. A smile flitted across his features, fingers twirling the small blade through his fingers on habit as he turned just enough over one heel to view his werymate.

He head tilted in a feigned questioning manner, golden eyes dropping to the hand in question. The blade stilled as F'lix lifted a finger to his mouth, deliberately being slow about cleaning the spot of ink off the pad. He drew the digit away, lips remaining parted as he considered the answer to F'ur's question. Again he turned his eyes back on F'ur. Lashes lowered in an almost demure look – but most definitely a sly expression on the Bendenite.

"Nearly so," Voiced softly before he nodded his chin at the older rider. "All off you is another matter." With the dull side of the blade, F'lix traced a line through the air just aside his own face. Mirroring the pattern snaking down F'ur's face and neck in black streaks. Eyes narrowed, playfully – what was F'ur going to do about it – before F'lix shifted his attention back to the to-be fire.

[Requiem]

Beaaauuutiful. He was becoming a man-sized salt lick for dragons. His nose wrinkled in distaste - now he’d be smelling like raw animal meat - as Saboth’s body curled around him, the wing already encircling him. Not so high that he couldn’t see the kitten pause; that oh too pleased with himself false innocent expression; the careful cleaning of the finger. A wicked creature, F’lix. Between his weyrmate and the two dragons, the only creature currently not giving him flak was the one trembling in his belt loops (having vacated the man’s hair at the offensive dragon breath.)

Ah, but one must always strive to improve, came Inocenth’s silken reply. I make it a point not to let up until he loses his cool. It‘s ever so much more gratifying that way. The smaller blue practically slithered over to a position that cut out any of the remaining crosswind, immediately taking up his trademark tightly coiled posture that more resembled a tunnel snake than a dragon. Though I must say, the weather isn‘t bad for an evening here. Not too windy and warmer than the last several days…Yours chooses well.

The older man was currently rubbing at his face with the heel of his hand, the still-wet ink almost smearing over it evenly. He regarded the digits, wiggling his fingers slowly, then regarded Saboth. A moment later a F’ur-sized handprint was placed on the jawbone just beneath his eye. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say a certain beastly miscreant was attempting to pen me in. Teaming up with Yours against me, is that it, Saber?” Another handprint found its way to the dip of his snout. Pausing a moment to survey his work, he cleared the ink from his hand almost contemplatively with the shirt. (Which would definitely end up in the wear to bed pile after this much abuse.)

While he probably could have escaped the ring Saboth had formed between body and wing without too much difficulty - by ducking under if nothing else - F’ur was in a mood to be just as annoying as the evil ones conspiring against him. Thus he climbed right up on Saboth’s head, settling himself in the depression between the male’s nostrils, and began clearing the ink from his face and neck with the shirt while adding swirls and dots to the hide within easy reach of his perch. “I’m sure you wear it so much better than I do.” F’lix being temporarily out of reach, F’ur seemed more than content to expend his efforts on the man’s dragon instead.

[rii]

I will leave that to your expertise. Saboth's tail twitched where it laid in the sand near F'ur's feet. Could no longer see the Fortian, but the feeling of the hand prints spoke clearly of the man's actions. Hmph. The blue heavily snorted, sending sand flying, when F'ur sat right on his snout. He carefully lifted his head, gently tossing the man off his muzzle and toward the darker blue. I would like to blindly say Mine always picks well – but he chose yours. Very questionable.

The words were playful, even if Saboth still had his misgivings about the two men being together. Saboth had come a long way from growling at F'ur and projecting that he wanted to eat him, to have him gone. Yet slowly, as F'lix's shadowing memories faded, so too had Saboth's. Right now his main concern was using a combination of his front leg and end of his tail to remove the ink from his face.

"That's actually about it.." F'lix glanced back to make sure F'ur was alright, eyes lingering a moment long before returning to the burning tinders. With the end of knife more material was stuffed into the heat until a steady enough flame rose to begin eating at bigger pieces of kindling. Resorting to resting on his knees and boots, F'lix once again returned a playful attention to his weyrmate. "Couldn't have you exacting revenge while I'm making a fire."

The knife was returned to the slotting of material on the inside of his boot, and the flint to the pack. As an after thought, F'lix drew out the folded piece of paper and stuffed it into the confines of the pack as well. Probably safer in his pocket, but if F'ur got it in his head to plunge him in the ocean in response to the sneak attack of ink – then, well, he didn't want it ruined. Casually he moved the toe of his boots under his seat in case he need to move quickly. At same time he added another piece of wood to the growing flames. "I don't think I've ever seen you eat crab.." And F'ur didn't comment on the matter back on the ledge. "Do you even like it, or are you here for the butter?"

[Requiem]

It's not the fault of Yours, Inocenth responded, tail lashing in a show of annoyance that didn't reach his eyes. Mine has a glamour about him; I fully intended to pick the pretty girl to his left. Much more tractable. The dark blue wormed forward to knock His onto his rump as the man rolled to his feet in the sand, the rider grunting and shooting a glare at his mindmate. The human males just like to fight you on everything, don't they?

Picking himself up out of the sand, he brushed at the particles - already wet and refusing to be removed - that clung to his pants. "Yeah, claim it as that. I'm still calling it a conspiracy," he responded huffily. Even F'ur's general good humor could give way to irritation after awhile, though the bite behind the words wasn't present in his body language at all as he ambled over toward F'lix, not moving too quick. Crouching near him, he extended his hands over the flame, trying to leech some of the warmth even though the fire was as yet too small to do much. Northern he might have been, but wet and cool air could make anyone cold.

F'ur edged a touch closer to his weyrmate. "I eat anything. I forget what exactly crab tastes like, but I like seafood," he concluded. Particularly with butter. Like F'lix really needed him to add that part though, ha. "So not just the butter." Perhaps it was only natural for someone who burned through calories like they were paper, but F'ur truly did like his fatty foods. Butter was always a welcome addition.

Close enough now, and F'lix was distracted. He made as if to snatch up the kitten, changing course at the last moment to brush behind him and wrap his fingers around the strap of the pack, dancing nimbly back as he fished around inside it blindly with one hand, eyes on the other bluerider for any attempts at retaliation or to reclaim the items. He pulled out a dish, eyeing it contemplatively. Nope, that definitely hadn't been in F'lix's back pocket. He tossed it at F'lix to occupy the younger man's hands, scampering back a few more steps to go digging in the pack again.

[rii]

Saboth soon gave up on his efforts on trying to remove the ink from his face when F'lix gave him the silent promise to wipe it off later. The pale blue heavily laid his head back on the sands, giving a sharp huff as he turned his singular gaze back out over the ocean. Maybe it is fortunate you got him instead. I've been told females leak too much – one way or another. Still.. His tail slid, half-burying itself in the sand heated by the day's light. It felt good against the hide. The desire to roll against the grains rose, but Saboth quickly dismissed the impulse. Fighting is better than whining. Although I will admit, I cannot tell the difference with it at times.

F'lix subconsciously mirrored the itching sensation Saboth felt (which had brought forth the desire to roll against the sand) and lifted a hand to scratch idly at the side of his neck. He kept the majority of his attention on the fire, working now to build a decent steeple of wood to let it burn into a modest fire. A half smile and laugh followed F'ur's words. Not just the butter, but it certainly sweetened the deal. A mental note was made to make F'ur try the crab before lathering it in butter.

He reached out to adjust one of the larger pieces of wood, momentarily taking his attention off of F'ur. The ex-Fortian had not been forgotten – creeping ever closer as he was doing. Rare were the times F'ur left playful ruses un-returned. Mid-reach is when F'ur made his move. F'lix's body torqued to face him, his foot slipping in the loose sand to put him on his rump. His heart rate spiked – a reaction he couldn't stop when his half-naked weyrmate was moving as if to pin him.

That adrenaline rush of a thrill was short lived. F'lix wasn't quick enough in reading F'ur's actions, his body twisting further and his fingers curling on the empty sand a half-second too late; the pack gone. "F'ur!," The younger rider was up on his feet the next instant, dry sand flinging in an arc from his sleeve as he pursued the older man. "Wha–"

The words cut off as he staggered forward, doubling at the waist to stretch his arms out and catch the little dish. A long step was taken to recover the over balancing. F'lix natural, prowling grace come out strong as his body followed with the long step, moving in quickly to make a mock-pounce at the older man eluding him. His weight settled on his feet for only a moment, sinking boots into the sand before he moved to grab at F'ur a second time, a growing smile on his lips. "Hand it over and I might spare the butter from torture."